


Sovereign

by eledhwenlin



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, historic roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-03
Packaged: 2017-11-06 18:43:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/421957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eledhwenlin/pseuds/eledhwenlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brendon and Spencer do a historic roleplay scene; Spencer's the king, Brendon's one of his lieges.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sovereign

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink_bingo _historic roleplay_ square. There's a bit of (perceived) dubcon in the scene itself, which I assure you is totally pre-negotiated between Brendon and Spencer. If you need the exact details, click the cut at the bottom which contains spoilers. The sex itself is rather tame, I think.
> 
> Thanks for the beta go the wonderful lalejandra. <333

Spencer carefully put down his fountain pen, careful not to spill any ink. He'd written enough letters today, and the Duke of Dorset would soon arrive. Spencer had been looking forward to his visit so much, it wouldn't do to not be able to give him Spencer's full attention.

Spencer could already feel his cock stir in his pants as he thought about the proposal he was going to offer the Duke. It was fail-safe—Spencer would be able to get what he wanted.

When someone knocked on the door, Spencer took a moment to breathe and calm down. "Come in," he called.

The Duke of Dorset entered the room. "Good evening, Your Highness. Your valet led me straight up here." He was clutching his top hat in his hands, worrying the flap.

"Oh, good evening, dear Duke!" Spencer strode over and shook the duke's hand. "Dear Brendon, it has been too long."

The duke wisely didn't react—Spencer had met him just last week at a ball. Brendon ducked his head, his cheeks slightly flushed. He felt obviously at unease being in his king's private chambers. "I'm afraid I have been very busy," Brendon said. "The family business has kept me away from London, Your Highness."

Spencer nodded. "I've heard about your father—how is he doing?"

Brendon was completely calm as he answered. "He is doing as well as can be expected," he said.

Brendon's father was almost bankrupt. Spencer knew that Brendon knew that Spencer knew exactly how bad his father's situation was. Spencer planned on using that to his favour. "It is exactly this issue I wanted to talk to you about," he said.

Brendon paled, but then regained his composure. "I understand, Your Highness."

Spencer walked over to the liquor cabinet where, amongst other spirits, he kept a bottle of good whiskey. "I have found a way how to ease the burden on your shoulders," he said as he poured two glasses.

As he handed Brendon a glass, Brendon frowned at the glass. "We'd be happy for any assistance," he said. He didn't drink.

"As you are probably aware, your father has to pay considerable fees for not turning in his taxes properly." Spencer waited for Brendon to nod, before he continued. Brendon's face didn't betray one thought—without the fees, Brendon's father would be able to keep his business without any losses. "These could be delayed," Spencer started.

Something akin to hope appeared on Brendon's face, only to be immediately hidden behind a blank friendly face. "It would relieve our situation a lot, Your Highness," Brendon said, "if the fees did not have to be paid at once."

"They could even be dropped entirely," Spencer added slowly. He was looking at his glass of whisky, taking a long sip every now and then.

Brendon stood completely still. "They could?" He sounded almost desperately hopeful.

"They could." Spencer down the rest of his glass and put the empty glass down on his secretary. Brendon was still holding his completely full glass. He was staring at Spencer. "It wasn't your father's fault that his accountant did not calculate his taxes correctly."

Brendon nodded. "No, Your Highness."

"Of course, there would have to be other compensations." Spencer slowly stepped closer to Brendon until he was standing right next to him, Brendon's arm brushing his stomach. It was indecently close, and Spencer could see Brendon swallow.

"I don't understand what you mean, sire."

Spencer leaned in close. "Stay the night."

Brendon was tense and completely still. "I don't know whether I can accept this offer," he said.

Spencer had expected something like that. "It is just as well," he said. "I personally don't care about the fees as much as my treasurer does." He shrugged. "It is entirely your decision."

It really wasn't. Spencer could see Brendon close his eyes. The fees, even delayed, were still more than Brendon's father could pay. Brendon didn't have a choice—either his parents were going to lose their complete estate or Brendon could spend the night with Spencer.

"I see," Brendon said softly. He kept his eyes cast down, and it made Spencer sad.

 _I just want you_ , Spencer wanted to say. _I just don't think you'd say yes if I asked you just for myself._ Spencer wouldn't ever forget the moment a lithe young boy he hadn't known had stepped onto the dance floor just five years ago. He'd fallen for a pair of brown eyes, a mouth quick to laugh and smile, and the best mind he'd ever met.

Brendon stirred. He slowly lifted the glass to his mouth and drank it in one long gulp. He looked determined when he sat the glass down. But when he looked at Spencer, the bravado went out of him. He was just a young boy, tired and desperate.

"I accept," he said, so quietly Spencer had to strain to hear.

"I'm overjoyed to hear that," Spencer said. His hands itched to touch Brendon now, to pull him close and kiss him. Instead, Spencer stood up straight. "My bedroom is right over there."

Brendon walked over to the door as if in trance. He stood in front of the bed, posture rigid. Spencer'd had his valet bring out a second night shirt, and Brendon was staring at it.

"The bathroom is over there," Spencer said, "and you'll find everything necessary there."

"I understand, my lord," Brendon said quietly. He picked up the night shirt and bowed slightly. "I will hurry to return, sire."

Spencer nodded. It wouldn't do for Brendon to keep Spencer waiting. That Brendon was using his bathroom was a little bit of a dilemma for Spencer—he now had to change in his bedroom proper. He dropped his clothes on the chair next to his desk and washed himself with the water he always kept in his room.

Spencer slid underneath the covers and waited. He'd put out soap and the softest cloth he had. After his valet had gone, Spencer had put the small tin of salve next to the soap. He knew Brendon knew how to use it—there had been quiet rumours about the youngest Urie ever since the first ball he attended. Normally Spencer was loath to believe every rumour he heard (and at court you couldn't help hearing a lot), but when he saw Brendon on the dance floor for the first time, his interest had been stirred. The rumours were persistent, the whispered names always the same. It was then that Spencer realised that his desires could actually be satisfied. He had dreamed too often of Brendon's easy smile, the way he twirled over the dance floor, almost reckless, barely keeping to the steps of the actual dance.

Spencer closed his eyes, waiting. Maybe, he thought, if he could have Brendon now, those dreams would stop. Maybe it was similar to any other odd desire—you might spend weeks yearning for Turkish Delight, but then when you're finally allowed to have it, it tastes too sweet, makes you sick. Maybe Brendon would not live up to the expectations in Spencer's mind. But then Spencer imagined running his hands over Brendon's bottom, feeling the soft skin and firm flesh. His cock immediately got hard. Or maybe, he thought, Brendon was everything Spencer had wished for.

Spencer took a deep breath and shifted slightly to accommodate himself. Wasn't Brendon ready already? He seemed to have disappeared hours ago, and Spencer almost hurt with want.

It was a few more minutes before Brendon appeared. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Your Highness," he said, voice tight and shaky. "The ... preparations took longer than expected."

Spencer nodded. "You're forgiven," he said magnanimously.

Brendon stopped closer, but stopped in front of the bed. He looked at the bedspread as if it held the answer to all his questions. Spencer's stomach grew tight—he wanted Brendon to look at him.

"How do you want me, sire?" Brendon's voice was almost inaudible.

Spencer patted the bed next to him. "Here," he said softly. "On your stomach." Spencer had long debated how he wanted Brendon, and he'd decided on this because he wanted to feel Brendon. Having Brendon on his hands and knees would put too much distance between them and Spencer wanted to _feel_.

Brendon nodded shakily and he slid under the covers. After he turned over, he turned his face away from Spencer. "Like this, my lord?"

Spencer reached out and put his hand on Brendon's back. Brendon was tense, every muscle tight, and Spencer gently rubbed his back. "Yes," he said quietly. He rolled over to lie next to Brendon. "Look at me," he whispered.

Brendon turned his head, but his eyes were downcast. He was so completely beautiful to Spencer that it took his breath away. But he wasn't looking at Spencer.

"Brendon," Spencer said quietly.

Brendon finally looked up. He was pale, a blush high on his cheeks. "Sire?"

Spencer just looked and brushed his thumb over Brendon's cheek. "I like looking at you," he said.

Brendon blushed more deeply. "Please don't say things like that, my lord," he said. "I am just a low nobleman and do not deserve so much of your attention."

Spencer laughed. "I think it is for me to decide who is worthy of my attention," he said.

Brendon sighed. "I'm sorry to have called your decision into question," he said. "It wasn't my intention—"

Spencer pressed his finger against Brendon's lips. "Don't apologise," he said.

From this close, Spencer could smell Brendon. It was intoxicating.

Spencer slowly reached down and grabbed the hem of Brendon's nightshirt. "I think I have chosen correctly," Spencer said, but Brendon scrunched his eyes shut. He nodded weakly, but he pressed his face into the pillow when Spencer gently pulled up his nightshirt.

Spencer pulled it over Brendon's ass. The skin felt as soft as he'd expected. Spencer couldn't withstand the temptation to run his hand over Brendon's ass, touching it firmly.

Brendon breathed heavily. "Relax," Spencer whispered into his ear. Brendon nodded.

Spencer was hard and his erection pressed against Brendon's leg. As Spencer rolled over on top of Brendon, Brendon spread his legs to accommodate Spencer. Spencer hummed in response. He quickly pulled up his own nightshirt.

As he leaned forward, he let some of his weight rest on Brendon. Brendon relaxed gradually. Spencer quickly checked whether Brendon has used the salve and found him wet and slippery. Brendon gasped and pushed back on Spencer's fingers.

"Have some patience," Spencer scolded him lightly. He grabbed his cock and positioned himself.

The first slide in was ... almost indescribable. Brendon was tight and hot. Spencer pushed into him steadily, groaning when he finally was all in. His balls slapped against Brendon's ass. Brendon breathed heavily.

Spencer leaned down properly and he pushed his nose into Brendon's hair. "You feel perfect," he told Brendon.

"Thank, thank you, sire," Brendon stuttered.

Spencer started shallowly thrusting and Brendon gasped with every movement.

"Tell me how it feels," Spencer said. "Tell me how I make you feel."

"Sire." Brendon's voice was strangled. "I—" He gasped.

"Please," Spencer whispered. "Please, I—" He couldn't say _need_ , a king didn't _need_ these sorts of things. "—I want to know."

Brendon moaned. "You feel good inside me," he whispered, almost too low for Spencer to hear. "You make me feel like I belong to you."

"You do belong to me," Spencer said. "You're mine."

Brendon shuddered underneath him and his ass became even tighter. Spencer was surprised by the sudden onset of his relief, and he lay there for a moment, breathless and overwhelmed, while Brendon was slightly shaking.

"Sire?" Brendon's voice was timid and filled with need.

Spencer pulled out and rolled onto his back. Now that he was spent he felt sleepy and it took an extraordinary amount of will to speak up again. "Brendon, you were magnificent."

Brendon made a quiet noise, a mix between a whimper and moan. "I'm pleased to hear that, sire," he said, voice tight and unsteady. It didn't sound like he had enjoyed the experience nearly as much.

Spencer frowned and turned onto his side. Brendon was facing the other way, but when Spencer took his hand, cramped into the pillow, he looked over. "Brendon," Spencer said and stopped right there because he didn't know how to continue. "Are you hurt?" he asked when he saw how tightly Brendon was holding himself.

"N-no, sire, I'm fine."

Spencer continued to frown and he pulled on Brendon's shoulder. "Then come here," he says.

Brendon closed his eyes and then he let Spencer flip him over, so Brendon's back was pressed tightly against Spencer's chest. "Sire, I don't think this is ... proper," he said quietly.

"I do not care about propriety or decency right now," Spencer said. Brendon jerked when Spencer ran his fingers over his ass, but he didn't groan as in pain. Puzzled, Spencer wrapped his arm around Brendon's waist. But his hand grazed something that gave him pause.

Spencer wrapped his hand around Brendon's cock, still uncovered, and stroked it gently. Brendon choked on a moan. "Sire..."

"My guests usually enjoy their stay in my bed," Spencer said. Brendon was tense and he was fisting the sheets.

Brendon gulped in a deep breath. "My, my failure to, it isn't your fault, it's mine, sire." He sounded frantic. "I'm sure that you, that usually-"

"Relax," Spencer said into Brendon's ear. "Relax." He pressed a kiss right underneath Brendon's ear. Brendon gasped, but he relaxed against Spencer.

Spencer breathed in the smell of Brendon's hair again. He could feel the familiar stirring in his loins again, ridiculous after such a short time, but Brendon... Brendon felt like a drug to him. He nudged Brendon's ass gently and was surprised when Brendon readily shifted.

Brendon sighed when Spencer slid into him again. "So you do like it?" Spencer asked.

"Sire, I-" Brendon panted and pushed back against Spencer. "I do," he said. "Last time was just too, uh, short."

Spencer pulled Brendon flush against his chest and he enjoyed the way Brendon writhed and pushed back. "It was my fault, then," Spencer said. "But I'm afraid I just can't control myself around you." He pressed another kiss against Brendon's throat.

"Sire?" Brendon turned his head and was looking at Spencer with wide, surprised eyes.

Instead of answering, Spencer kissed him, gently and softly.

If Brendon had been relaxed before, he now turned to soft wax in Spencer's hands, pliable and loose. Spencer kept his hand on Brendon's cock, lazily stroking him in time with his thrusts.

Brendon was so bold as to put his hand on Spencer's hip and he was pushing him—arranging him, Spencer realised, as he now slid in deeper. The changed angle made it more intense and when Spencer bottomed out, Brendon groaned so loudly he had to turn his face into the pillow to muffle the sounds.

"Better?" Spencer could feel Brendon shaking slightly, more with every thrust, and it felt nothing short of fantastic.

Brendon just nodded. He came with a shout, spilling all over Spencer's hand and sheets. Spencer groaned with him, as Brendon again became unbearably tight. For the second time that night, Spencer emptied himself into Brendon.

Spencer just pulled out when the pressure on his cock became too much to endure. Brendon whimpered quietly, but Spencer pulled him back into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he whispered, already half-asleep.

"Everything for you, sire," Brendon replied just as sleepily.

~~~***~~~

Spencer woke with a start. He was hot and the sun was shining directly on his face. "Wha' time is it," he mumbled.

Brendon giggled. "I don't know."

"Why, the batteries stop working again?" Spencer blinked at the alarm clock—that wasn't there. "What," he said.

Brendon giggled more loudly. "You realise," he said, "that you now owe me dinner and one scene according to my script."

Spencer blinked at Brendon. "Huh?"

Brendon now turned onto his back and laughed, loud guffaws. "You forgot," he said when he could breathe again. "When we were discussing the scene, you said you wanted to finish in the morning and I said it wouldn't work because you would forget and you said you wouldn't."

Brendon turned to face Spencer who was slowly beginning to remember. "We played..."

"The king scene," Brendon finished.

"Oh," Spencer said. The scene was supposed to end with King Spencer professing his love to Brendon. He felt sorely disappointed. "I'm sorry."

Brendon kissed Spencer's cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"But I'm awake now, we should—"

"Go back to sleep," Brendon insisted. "Pretend you're asleep."

"I—oh." Spencer laid back down and tried to relax, but now that he remembered what they were doing, that he remembered the scene, he found it hard to relax completely.

Brendon settled down again, too. Spencer kept his eyes closed and counted their breaths. This was unscripted and Spencer didn't have any idea what Brendon was about to do.

He didn't expect Brendon to get up and slip out of bed quietly, though. Spencer opened his eyes. "Brendon," he said.

Brendon stilled. "Sire," he said, and suddenly Spencer got it.

"Where are you going? It is still early."

"Sire, I—" Brendon swallowed heavily.

"Turn around," Spencer said quietly. "Look at me."

Brendon turned, his eyes downcast. "Sire, it is not my place."

"Dear—" _Duke_ , Spencer thought, they'd decided on a duke. "Dear Duke—"

Brendon smiled sadly. "My King," he said.

Spencer took a deep breath. "Brendon," he said and he let himself feel, remembering all the backstory they'd made up for the Duke of Dorset and the king. They'd been in the living room, cuddling on the couch. Brendon had exclaimed he thought best like that and he'd settled down on top of Spencer.

"So when do we meet?" Brendon had asked. "Would a king go to a college?"

"No," Spencer had said. "I saw you at a ball for the first time." Spencer hadn't ever mentioned to Brendon that he already had a full fantasy, that it wasn't an idle idea. Spencer had thought about them: as king and duke, as pirates, as ancient Greeks, free to take pleasures where they could find them, as explorers and inventors and in a dozen roles besides.

"You did?" Brendon had propped up his head on his fist and looked at Spencer. "Did I dance?"

Spencer had smiled. "Yes," he'd said, "badly. You were tripping all over your feet, and you seemed painfully shy—like you didn't know where you could touch the young ladies without being improper."

"It's hard," Brendon had said. "They have all corsets on, what if I mistakenly put my hand up too high?"

"Don't knock me off-track."

"Sorry. Please continue."

Spencer'd swallowed heavily. "I saw you and I liked you. I asked around about who you were, which family, which son and what you were doing. And then I kept an eye on you."

"Didn't know my bad dancing skills could be so intriguing." Brendon'd been quite amused.

"I was in love with you," Spencer had said and Brendon'd stopped giggling. "I saw you and I fell in love with you."

Brendon'd been quiet. "How long? How long did the king wait?"

"A few years," Spencer'd said. He'd closed his eyes, both to help him remember and so he wouldn't have to look at Brendon while he was recounting the entire sad, made-up, sappy story. "I wasn't sure whether you—you seemed like, but in those times you couldn't be too sure, especially as king. The royalty bonus didn't extend that far."

"Why did it change?" Brendon'd been calm and collected. Spencer'd been pretty much freaking out.

"I could help," Spencer'd said. "You were in trouble and I could help, and when it turned out that I might be able to get you, even for just one night, I couldn't control myself. I'd wanted to hold you for even just a minute for so long that I couldn't withstand. You knew what was coming, had to know. I invited you to my private chambers, but I extended the invitation privately, so only you and the valet knew about it. I'd sent my most trusted valet, the one who'd never gossip about me, so I could be sure. And you agreed."

"I think I was looking forward to it," Brendon'd said.

Spencer'd wrapped his arms tighter around Brendon. "I love you," he'd said, putting the years of pining and forsaking himself into his voice.

Just as he did now.

"Brendon," Spencer repeated. "Your place is always at my side." His voice broke on the last words.

"Sire," Brendon said in a strained voice.

"Please." Spencer slipped out of bed and stood in front of Brendon. He slowly tipped Brendon's face up. "Please."

"Sire—"

Brendon quieted when Spencer rubbed his finger over Brendon's lips.

"Call me by my name," Spencer said.

"Sp-Spencer," Brendon whispered.

"I love you," Spencer said. The words just spilled out of him. "I loved you since the first moment I saw you, and—"

"But the taxes—"

"I'd have waived them anyway," Spencer said, voice shaking. "Even if you hadn't agreed to come and see me."

"So I needn't have had to ..." Brendon let his voice trail out.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered, "but I didn't think you'd acquiesce otherwise."

"Spencer," Brendon said, "you needn't have had to, either." He smiled, one that reached his eyes and made him shine from within. "I'd have acquiesced anyway."

Spencer reached for Brendon, pulled him into a tight embrace. "Love you," he said.

"I love you, too," Brendon replied. Spencer kissed Brendon. Afterward, Brendon giggled. "Are you happy now?"

Spencer didn't even have to think about it. "Yes," he said. "Now the Duke of Dorset and his king can try and figure out how to have a relationship."

Brendon laughed. "I'm okay with that," he said. "Totally okay."

"I love you," Spencer said. "I love every version of you."

"I've never doubted that," Brendon said. "For the record, I love you, too. In all variations." He pressed a quick kiss against Spencer's temple. "And now back to the future. We promised Shane to help with rearranging his living room."

"You mean you promised Regan we'd help, because Shane's busy shooting a video."

Brendon shrugged. "Just as well. We have to be there by eleven."

Spencer groaned and sank down into the mattress. "Can't we stay here? We could discuss, uh, things."

Brendon leaned over and kiss Spencer. "Help me lug around Shane's furniture," he said, "and then you can tell me all about your fantasies. Especially what the king wants next from the duke."

Spencer smiled. "Works for me."

**Author's Note:**

>   
>  The dubcon consists of Spencer blackmailing Brendon into having sex with him because Brendon's family has money issues and Spencer can be king and release them from some of their debts. Brendon could totally say no, except then his family would go bankrupt and lose everything. So Spencer abuses his position of power.
> 
> (The dubcon is Spencer's really secret "I love this, but I'm ashamed to say so" kink, and Brendon spends half an hour laughing at him, when Spencer finally owns up. Spencer's having way more issues about it than Brendon, and then Brendon insists on playing this scene (they also got another planned out in which the duke and the king also fall in love, but have secret meetings, and in which there is no dubcon at all) for basically the same reason he insists that they do the roleplay where Brendon's a hooker (sorry, that one is still a WIP) because dubcon is something Brendon is totally A-OKAY with as long as Spencer doesn't spring it on him all of a sudden ("I would never do that!" Spencer says; Brendon says, "I KNOW"). And now I've lost track of my parentheses. Anyway, point in case: it's PRE-NEGOTIATED, all parties involved are okay with it and Brendon loves having to give up control over his actions, anyway.)


End file.
